That's How it Happens

7. Secrets, Daydreams and Confessions

Ainsley sat at her desk, eyes glazed over the scattered headshots. None sparked that familiar flicker – that gut feeling she relied on when something was right. The idea she'd been toying with was still shapeless, floating somewhere between half-baked and hopeless.

Her head pulsed with the dull rhythm of a hangover she refused to name. It wasn't the looming holiday. It wasn't Peter. She was too professional to let personal drama bleed into her work. Last night had been a lapse – nothing more. She told herself that. Repeated it like a mantra. Maybe it would stick.

She hadn't had coffee. That didn't help.

She'd woken up on the couch, tangled in a dream she couldn't quite remember. Her phone was dead. She'd forgotten to plug it in, and -of course- the charger was missing again. Leo. The habitual charger chief. And, naturally, nowhere to be found.

Her thoughts drifted, uninvited, to the kiss. That kiss. It lingered like smoke-unreal, untouchable. She slammed the brakes on that memory and veered back to the present. Where was Leo, anyway? She glanced at the office phone, debating whether to call. But she didn't want to interrupt what it was she suspected but refused to name. Or maybe she did.

Her brain pivoted again.

Why did Liv have to get married?

She groaned, pressing her forehead into her palm, staring at the chaos on her desk. The ad needed finishing before the holiday. No time for distractions. But her mind was a carousel of unfinished thoughts, spinning too fast to catch.

Why on a holiday?

Of course, it was Liv. Only Liv would hijack a national celebration for her own spotlight. Ainsley wasn't thrilled about the reunion. She'd be lying if she said she didn't still crave her mother's approval, even after everything. Things had been strained since she left abruptly, without explanation – though it should have been obvious. They spoke occasionally, but it felt more like an obligation than a connection. Aunt Kate was likely behind the texts, just as she was behind Ainsley's own half-hearted replies.

Liv was harder to forgive. But Ainsley played nice for Kate's sake – too afraid to lose the one family member who still felt like home. It wasn't that she didn't love them. She did. But it was complicated love. Heavy love. And somewhere deep down, she still longed for something simpler. Something normal.

Then there was the plus-one dilemma. She couldn't show up solo. Her mother would savor that too much – another chance to point out how Ainsley wasn't doing life "correctly." Unlike Liv, who mirrored Victoria in every way. Ainsley's DNA seemed to come more from their father, including her demeanor, which Victoria found unfortunate.

There was also Peter. She'd canceled their date last night, citing illness. Technically true. Stress-induced nausea counted. She'd be lying if she hadn't considered bringing him to the wedding. Her mother would be thrilled. The run-in with Peter and the "date" rattled her more than she cared to admit. It felt like the past had slipped through a crack and was now standing in her present, asking questions she wasn't ready to answer.

Leo would say she was being dramatic. Maybe she was. But the idea of revisiting that chapter with Peter felt...loaded. And yet, she couldn't stop thinking about it.

"Knock, knock."

Ainsley looked up, forcing a smile. Or something close to it. Even that hurt.

"Oof. You look like hell."

"Good morning to you, too, April," Ainsley muttered as her friend gave her a once-over, grimaced, and perched, per usual, on the corner of her desk.

"You know, I do have chairs," Ainsley added, knowing full well it was a wasted breath.